speak to me of rivers ~

tornadoday

I am everything
and nothing –
a piece of aging cloth
a failing light
when every light is down
a whisper
once a lullaby
remember
how you sang –
of whiskey
when the glass was cold
stories when they came
to close my eyes
and listen
tell me how it was again
speak to me of rivers
of your breath
upon my skin

. . .

View original post